


better than dreams

by pendules



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Awkwardness, Crack, Dreams, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, boys being stupid, dares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>Adam</i>," he says, like a sigh, and no one's ever said his name like that before. Adam couldn't even imagine Ronan saying <i>anyone's</i> name like that before: intimate and reverent and <i>longing</i>. He knows for sure now that he still thinks he's dreaming. And <i>oh</i>.</p><p>He was dreaming of <i>Adam</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better than dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsandgutters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgutters/gifts).



> Born out of twitter shenanigans with [Ambra](http://starsandgutters.co.vu); thanks for the inspiration. :)

Adam wonders about Ronan's dreams sometimes. Not the mechanism of plucking a physical object out of nothingness, but the dreams themselves. Wonders if they're always filled with dark, murderous things; if all he does is run from monsters. (Adam knows about running from monsters.) But that can't be all there is — there's also a place where beautiful things are grown: Chainsaw and Matthew and cures for stings and remedies for aching hands. He wonders if it's all the same place or if there are rooms in his mind like the rooms of a house. If he can shut out the darkness chasing him, at least for a spell.

He knows he can ask, and maybe he will someday, but for now he just watches him sleep.

It's closer than he usually sleeps, tucked against the side of his mattress. One of his arms is folded to his chest, like he's holding onto something (or shielding his heart). The other is stretched out in Adam's direction.

It's almost imperceptible, the slight tug at the corners of his mouth, but it's _there_ and Adam's gotten good at noticing shifts in Ronan's mood and behaviour, like looking out for a storm approaching the horizon. The seas have been calm for a while, though. Ronan looks tense in sleep most of the time; sometimes he's still and peaceful, like a corpse, and Adam has to resist the urge to check his pulse; but he's never _smiling_. Adam knows he should probably go back to sleep, but he has to be up soon anyway, so he just lies there looking at him. He's never smiled like that when he was awake, at least not at _him_. It's so far removed from his sharp, mocking smirk or his wild, reckless grin.

He's not running from monsters anymore; it's like he's reached the place he's been running to all along. Adam's kind of sad that he has to wake up from it.

And then he stirs, barely; he blinks at Adam a few times, groggily. "Hey," he says, voice rough. The smile's still there, unsettlingly. 

And then he extends his arm further and his hand is finding Adam's.

Adam's heart stops beating.

" _Adam_ ," he says, like a sigh, and no one's ever said his name like that before. Adam couldn't even imagine Ronan saying _anyone's_ name like that before: intimate and reverent and _longing_. He knows for sure now that he still thinks he's dreaming. And _oh_.

He was dreaming of _Adam_.

Ronan's hand is laced with his now, and his eyes are half-shuttered, and he's breathing through his mouth, muttering nonsense every so often.

He manages to decipher some of the more ridiculous babbling, and he would laugh if he wasn't so afraid. He's not sure _what_ exactly he's afraid of: that Ronan will realise what's happening and stop smiling like _that_ ; that he'll stop holding his hand and move away from him; that he'll shatter this moment that somehow feels like something precious and fragile.

So, he doesn't move and he makes vague sounds of agreement at the things Ronan's saying.

If he rubs small circles over Ronan's hand with his thumb, then no one has to know.

He's sure Ronan's going to nod off again, and then he'll make his escape, but then his eyes are opening properly, wide and alert, like he's sensed something deeply wrong, and he's staring at Adam's face and then at their intertwined hands and he looks like he wants to _die_. 

He pulls his hand away and he's sitting up and putting some distance between them. Adam misses his warmth instantly.

"Ronan, I —" He wonders if this is _it_ , if Ronan's going to leave and not come back here to sleep, and if he's ruined it, by being a coward or by being too bold. Whatever's in his dreams is his and his alone and this must feel like a violation. It wasn't meant for Adam to see or intrude upon.

"Jesus Christ, Parrish, what the hell were you _doing_?" he says, angrily, even as his eyes betray his shame.

And then his apology's basically thrown to the wind.

" _Me?_ I thought you said you knew when you were awake." He rolls his eyes. It's terrible to use this against him, he knows, but it's not _his_ fault either. _He_ was the unwilling participant in this. He only went along with it to spare his feelings, though it looks like he only made everything worse.

"I do. Usually. When it's not so convincing." It feels like something he didn't mean to give away.

"What was it anyway?" Adam says, coolly. "Sex dream?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ronan says, smirking at him.

"I mean — I don't — I don't _care_ or anything. Just want to know what to expect."

Ronan looks actually offended now. "I hear you moaning sometimes too, you know."

Adam opens his mouth and then closes it. This is _too much_ to deal with before the sun's even up.

"Yeah, but I don't involve _you_ in my weird fantasy sex dreams," Adam says, weakly.

"You have weird fantasy sex dreams?" Ronan asks.

"Shut up."

"Who are they about?"

"What, are you jealous?" Adam says, surprising himself.

"Should I be?" Ronan asks, casually.

"No," Adam says quietly.

Ronan laughs under his breath. "I _knew_ it."

"What?" Adam asks, eyes narrowing. This isn't going to end well. He _knows_ that look. The trademark Ronan Lynch, Stubborn Bastard look. He wonders if _this_ is going to leave scabs too.

"You totally want me."

"What?"

"Admit it. You want to _kiss_ me."

"I never _said_ that."

"Prove it."

"How do you prove that you _don't_ want to kiss someone? You have the worst logic in the world, Lynch."

Ronan's expression softens, like maybe he's giving up without a real fight, for the first time in his life. 

"Why do you care anyway?" Adam demands. He silently curses himself for his inability to leave well enough alone when it comes to Ronan Lynch.

"Because," Ronan says with a serene smile.

"Because what?"

"Because I want to torture you forever about it."

Adam figures this was maybe some elaborate prank all along and he's pretty tired of it now. "Okay, I'm leaving now."

He's halfway off his bed when Ronan's getting to his feet and saying, "I _dare_ you to do it."

Adam stops, at the edge of the mattress, his feet on the floor. " _What?_ " Because he can't actually mean it. He can't mean what he thinks he means.

Ronan's sitting next to him now, eyes bright and taunting. "Or are you too scared to do it?"

Adam swallows.

"This — This isn't a _game_ , Ronan," he says, solemnly.

"It's not?" Ronan says, tilting his chin up at him.

His stupid smirk is so infuriating that Adam has no choice but to grab his face and kiss it off.

Ronan makes a noise of surprise that's cut off by Adam's mouth; his eyes are open wide and just staring.

It's just a collision of lips, hard and fast; just a few glorious seconds of feeling the rough graze of his stubble and the soft fullness of his mouth before he pulls away. It's all he needs to know, though.

Ronan's still staring at him wordlessly like he's lost his damn mind. Maybe he has. He considers running the hell away and pretending this never happened for a brief moment. One of his hands is still resting on Ronan's knee and he slowly slides it off.

Only then Ronan's yelling at him.

"What the _hell_ , Parrish? _What the hell?_ " He looks slightly deranged, eyes wild, mouth still red and wet.

"You're the one who told me to do it." 

"I didn't think you'd actually — This isn't a fucking _joke_ ," he says, breathless and sounding genuinely terrified.

"I know that."

"You can't just fucking mess with people, Parrish."

" _Ronan_."

"What?" he says, finally focusing on him.

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Are you —"

Adam just nods, firmly.

Ronan carefully reaches out and takes his hand again. He takes a deep breath, staring at his mouth like it's a particularly challenging obstacle to be overcome, but his soft, barely-there smile is back.

Adam forces himself to keep his breathing steady.

Ronan closes his eyes and leans in. It's slower than before, like he's in no rush at all; Adam's thinking about his dreams again, maybe sometimes it's this easy and simple in his head. Like lazy mornings and lazy kisses. Like home and sunlight and having all the time in the world.

Ronan touches his fingertips to the back of Adam's neck and pulls him in closer and the kiss deepens.

Adam wraps his arms around his waist and catches his bottom lip between his own and Ronan makes the most pleased sound. The warm feeling in his stomach radiates all the way through him. To where Ronan's hands are lightly tracing his skin, to where their legs are brushing together, to where their mouths meet inexorably.

"Sure I'm not still dreaming?" Ronan murmurs between kisses.

But then Adam's pressing him back down on the bed and telling him to shut up, and amazingly, he actually listens this time.

*

Ronan's smiling again, only this time it's half-amused and half-wonderstruck. There's a bruise blooming on the side of his neck and probably one on his hip that he couldn't resist leaving just to hear him exhale, " _Fuck_ ," between his teeth, low and helpless, like he's lost all control. Like wanting Adam so much renders him open and pliant and someone else entirely. He's remembering how he shivered under him when Adam kissed a line down his stomach. It's a fond memory; he's going to think about it a lot during tedious shifts. It hadn't gone further than that; Ronan had stopped his hands from wandering too low and said, "Save something for later, Parrish," looking thoroughly blissed-out. It was harder to stop touching him than he imagined it would be.

Adam probably looks just as wrecked: hair sticking up in all directions and mouth kiss-bruised. He probably looks just as happy, too, and he doesn't even care to hide it.

"I can't believe all I had to do was _dare_ you to kiss me. You're so _easy_ , Parrish."

Adam can't believe he's actually attracted to this asshole.

"Stop talking if you ever want it to happen again," Adam tells him sweetly.

"You could've _said_ something," Ronan says, quiet and serious now. 

"You could've _asked_ ," Adam counters.

He turns to look at him and matches the smile on Ronan's face. As if they'd ever take the easy way there.

"What were you dreaming about anyway? Was it really a sex dream?" It shouldn't matter anymore; it was just a dream. But from what he could make out of the things Ronan had been saying, it had felt familiar and strangely domestic. It felt like something he dreams of often. Something he _wants_.

"God, _no_. It's none of your business anyway." Ronan actually sounds embarrassed, confirming his suspicions.

"You're really not going to tell me? I swear I won't make fun of you."

"I — Just ask me again sometime." He's not ready yet; Adam understands.

"Okay," Adam says, nodding, resting his head on Ronan's shoulder. It feels like a promise for the future.


End file.
